"Don't mention it for the world. I have told you in
perfectconfidence, and you are the only one to whom I
have breathed it. I wouldn't have it get out, for any consideration."

"Give yourself no uneasiness. I shall not allude to the
subject."

"I merely told you because I knew you were a friend, and
would let it go no farther. But would you have thought it?"

"I certainly am very much surprised."

"So am I. But when things pass right before your eyes and
ears, there is no gainsaying them."

"No. Seeing is said to be believing."

"Of course it is."

"But, Mrs. Grimes, are you very sure that you heard
aright?"

"I am positive, Mrs. Raynor. It occurred only an hour
ago, and the whole thing is distinctly remembered. I called in to see Mrs.
Comegys, and while I was there, the bundle of goods came. I was present when
she opened it, and she showed me the dress material which it contained.
There were twelve yards in it. 'I must see if there is good measure,' she
said, and she got a yard-stick and measured it off. There were fifteen
yards instead of twelve. 'How is this?' she remarked. 'I am sure
I paid for only twelve yards, and here are fifteen.' The yard-stick
was applied again. There was no mistake; the material measured fifteen
yards. 'What are you going to do with the surplus?' I asked. 'Keep it, of
course,' said Mrs. Comegys. 'There is just enough to make little Julia a
frock. Won't she look sweet in it?' I was so confounded, that I couldn't say
a word. Indeed, I could hardly look her in the face. At first I thought of
calling her attention to the dishonesty of the act; but then I
reflected that, as it was none of my business, I might get her ill-will for
meddling in what didn't concern me."

"And you really think, then, that she meant to keep the
three yards without paying for them?"

"Oh, certainly! But then I wouldn't say anything about it
for the world. I wouldn't name it, on any consideration. Of course you will
not repeat it."

"No. If I cannot find any good to tell of my
friends — I try to refrain from saying anything evil."

"A most excellent rule, Mrs. Raynor, and one that I
always follow. I never speak evil of my friends, for it always does more
harm than good. No one can say that I ever tried to injure another."

"So do I. But I am afraid not. Two or three little things
occur to me now, that I have seen in my fellowship with her, which go to
satisfy my mind that her moral perceptions are not the best in the
world. Mrs. Comegys is a pleasant friend, and much esteemed by every one. It
could do no good to spread this matter abroad, but harm."

After repeating over and over again, her injunction to
Mrs. Raynor not to repeat a word of what she had told her — Mrs. Grimes bade
this lady, upon whom she had called, good day, and went on her way.

Ten minutes after, she was in the parlor of an
acquaintance, named Mrs. Florence, entertaining her with the gossip
she had picked up since their last meeting. She had not been there long,
before, lowering her voice, she said in a confidential way —

"Yes. You will be astonished when you hear it. Suppose
you had purchased a dress and paid for a certain number of yards; and when
the dress was sent home, you should find that the storekeeper had made a
mistake and sent you three or four yards more than you had settled for. What
would you do?"

"Send it back, of course."

"Of course, so say I. To act differently would not be
honest. Do you think so?"

"It would not be honest for me."

"No, nor for anyone. Now, would you have believed it?
Mrs. Comegys not only thinks, but acts differently."

"You must be mistaken, certainly, Mrs. Grimes."

"Seeing is believing, Mrs. Florence."

"So it is said, but I could hardly believe my eyes
against Mrs. Comegys' integrity of character. I think I ought to know
her well, for we have been very intimate for years."

"It occurred just as I tell you. But Mrs. Florence, you
mustn't repeat it again for the world. I have mentioned it to you in the
strictest confidence. But I need hardly say this to you, for I know how
discreet you are."

"I shall not mention it."

"It could do no good."

"None in the world."

"Isn't it surprising, that a woman who is so well off in
the world as Mrs. Comegys, should stoop to a petty act like this?"

"It is, certainly."

"Perhaps there is something wrong here," and Mrs. Grimes
placed her finger to her forehead and looked sober.

"How do you mean?" asked the friend.

"You've heard of people being a kleptomaniac.
Don't you remember the case of Mrs. Yaeger?"

"Very well."

"She had everything that heart could desire. Her husband
was rich, and let her have as much money as she wanted. I wish we could all
say that, Mrs. Florence, don't you?"

"It would be very pleasant, certainly, to have as much
money as we wanted."

"But, notwithstanding all this, Mrs. Yaeger had such a
propensity to take things not her own, that she never went into a dry goods
store without purloining something, and rarely took tea with a friend
without slipping a teaspoon into her pocket. Mr. Yaeger had a great deal of
trouble with her, and, in several cases, paid handsomely to induce parties
disposed to prosecute her for theft — to let the matter drop. Now do
you know that it has occurred to me that, perhaps, Mrs. Comegys is afflicted
with kleptomania? I wouldn't at all wonder, if it were so."

"Hardly."

"I'm afraid it is as I suspect. A number of suspicious
circumstances have happened when she has been about, that this would
explain. But for your life, Mrs. Florence, don't repeat this to any
mortal!"

"I shall certainly not speak of it, Mrs. Grimes. It is
too serious a matter. I wish I had not heard of it, for I can never
feel toward Mrs. Comegys, as I have done in the past. She is a very pleasant
woman, and one with whom it is always agreeable and profitable to spend an
hour."

"We should never think lightly of dishonest practices,
Mrs. Grimes. Whoever is dishonest in little things, will be dishonest in
great things, if a good opportunity offers. Mrs. Comegys can never be to me,
what she has been. That is impossible."

"Of course you will not speak of it again."

"You need have no fear of that."

A few days after, Mrs. Raynor made a call upon a friend,
who said to her,

"Have you heard about Mrs. Comegys?"

"What about her?"

"I supposed you knew it. I've heard it from half a dozen
people. It is said that Perkins, through a mistake of one of his clerks,
sent her home some fifteen or twenty yards of material more than she had
paid for, and that, instead of sending it back, she kept it and made it up
for her children. Did you ever hear of such a trick for an honest woman?"

"I don't think any honest woman would be guilty of
such an act. Yes, I heard of it a few days ago as a great secret, and have
not mentioned it to a living soul."

"Secret? bless me! It is no secret. It is in everyone's
mouth."

"Is it possible? I must say that Mrs. Grimes has been
very indiscreet."

"Mrs. Grimes! Did it come from her in the first place?"

"Yes. She told me that she was present when the material
came home, and saw Mrs. Comegys measure it, and heard her say that she meant
to keep it."

"Which she has done. For I saw her in the street,
yesterday, with a beautiful new dress, and her little Julia was with her,
wearing one precisely like it."

"How any honest woman can do so, is more than I can
understand."

"So it is, Mrs. Raynor. Just to think of dressing your
child up in a frock as good as stolen! Isn't it dreadful?"

"It is, indeed!"

"Mrs. Comegys is not an honest woman. That is
clear. I am told that this is not the first trick of the kind of which she
has been guilty. They say that she has a natural propensity to take
things that are not her own."

"I can hardly believe that."

"Nor can I. But it's no harder to believe this, than to
believe that she would cheat Perkins out of fifteen of twenty yards of
material. It's a pity; for Mrs. Comegys, in everything else, is certainly a
very nice woman. In fact, I don't know anyone I visit with so much
pleasure."

Thus the circle of detraction widened, until there
was scarcely a friend or acquaintance of Mrs. Comegys, near or remote, who
had not heard of her having cheated a dry goods dealer out of several
yards of material. Three, it had first been alleged; but the most common
version of the story made it fifteen or twenty. Meantime, Mrs. Comegys
remained in entire ignorance of what was alleged against her,
although she noticed in two or three of her acquaintances, a trifling
coldness which struck her as rather singular.

One day her husband, seeing that she looked quite sober,
said —

"You seem quite dull today, dear. Don't you feel well?"

"Yes, I feel as well as usual, in body."

"But not in mind?"

"I do not feel quite comfortable in mind, certainly,
though I don't know that I have any serious cause of uneasiness."

"Though a slight cause exists. May I ask what it is?"

"It is nothing more nor less than that I was coolly
snubbed by an old friend today, whom I met in a store on Chestnut Street.
And as she is a woman that I highly esteem, both for the excellence of her
character, and the agreeable qualities, as a friend, which she possesses. I
cannot but feel a little bad about it. If she were one of that capricious
class who get offended with you, once a month, for no just cause whatever —
I would not care a fig. But Mrs. Markle is a woman of character, good sense
and good feeling, whose friendship I have always prized."

"Was it really Mrs. Markle?" said the husband, with some
surprise.

"Yes."

"What can possibly be the cause?"

"I cannot tell."

"Have you thought over everything?"

"Yes, I have turned and turned the matter in my mind, but
can imagine no reason why she, of all others, could treat me so coolly."

"Have you ever spoken of her in a way to have your words
misinterpreted by some evil-minded person — Mrs. Grimes, for
instance — whose memory, or moral sense, one or the other, is very dull?"

"I have never spoken of her to anyone, except in terms of
praise. I could not do otherwise, for I look upon her as one of the most
faultless women I know."

"She has at least shown that she possesses one fault."

"What is that?"

"If she has heard anything against you of a character so
serious as to make her wish to give up your acquaintance — she should at
least have afforded you the chance of defending yourself, before condemning
you."

"I think that, myself."

"It may be that she did not see you," Mr. Comegys
suggested.

"She looked me in the face, and nodded with cold
formality."

"Perhaps her mind was distracted."

"It might have been so. Mine would have been very
distracted, indeed, to keep me from a more cordial recognition of a friend."

"How would it do to call and see her?"

"I have been thinking of that. But my feelings naturally
oppose it. I am not conscious of having done anything to merit a withdrawal
of the friendly sentiments which she has held towards me; still, if she
wishes to withdraw them, my pride says, let her do so."

"But pride, you know, is not always the best adviser."

"No. Perhaps the less regard we pay to its promptings,
the better."

"I think so."

"It is rather awkward to go to a person and ask why
you have been treated coldly."

"I know it is. But in a choice of evils — is it
not always wisest to choose the least?"

"But is anyone's bad opinion of you, if it is not
correctly formed, an evil?"

"Certainly it is."

"I don't know. I have a kind of independence about me
which says, 'Let people think what they please — just so that I am conscious
of no wrong-doing.'"

"Indifference to the world's good or bad opinion is all
very well," replied the husband, "if the world will misjudge us. Still, as
anything which prejudices the minds of people against us, tends to destroy
our usefulness — it is our duty to take all proper care of our
reputations, even to the sacrifice of a little feeling in doing so."

Thus argued with by her husband, Mrs. Comegys, after
turning the matter over in her mind, finally concluded to go and see Mrs.
Markle. It was a pretty hard trial for her, but urged on by a sense of
right, she called upon her two or three days after having been treated
so coldly. She sent up her name by the servant. In about five minutes, Mrs.
Markle descended to the parlor, where her visitor was awaiting her, and met
her in a reserved and formal manner, which was altogether unlike her former
cordiality. It was as much as Mrs. Comegys could do, to keep from retiring
instantly, and without a word, from the house. But she compelled herself to
go through with what she had begun.

Mrs. Markle did, indeed, offer her hand — or rather the
tips of her fingers; which Mrs. Comegys, in mere reciprocation of the
formality, accepted. Then came an embarrassing pause, after which the latter
said —

"I see that I was not mistaken in supposing that there
was a marked coldness in your manner at our last meeting."

Mrs. Markle inclined her head slightly.

"Of course there is a cause for this. May I, in
justice to myself as well as others, inquire what it is?"

"I did not suppose you would press an inquiry on
the subject," replied Mrs. Markle. "But as you have done so, you are, of
course, entitled to an answer."

There came another pause, after which, with a disturbed
voice, Mrs. Markle said —

"For some time, I have heard a rumor in regard to
you, that I could not credit. Of late it has been so often repeated, that I
felt it to be my duty to ascertain its truth or falsehood. On tracing, with
some labor, the report to its origin — I am grieved to find that it
is too true."

"Please say what it is," said Mrs. Comegys, in a firm
voice.

"It is said that you bought a dress at a dry goods store
in this city, and that on its being sent home, there proved to be many yards
more in the piece of goods than you paid for, and that instead of returning
what was not your own — you kept it and had it made up for one of your
children."

The face of Mrs. Comegys instantly became like crimson;
and she turned her head away to hide the confusion into which this
unexpected allegation had thrown her. As soon as she could command her
voice, she said —

"You will, of course, give me the author of this
charge."

"You are entitled to know, I suppose," replied Mrs.
Markle. "The person who originated this report is Mrs. Grimes. And
she says that she was present when the dress material was sent home. That
you measured it in her presence, and that, finding there were several yards
over, you declared your intention to keep it and make of it a frock for your
little girl. And, moreover, that she saw Julia wearing a frock afterwards,
exactly like the pattern of the one you had, which she well remembers. This
seems to me pretty conclusive evidence. At least it was so to my mind — and
I acted accordingly."

Mrs. Comegys sat for the full space of a minute with her
eyes upon the floor, without speaking. When she looked up, the flush that
had covered her face had gone. It was very pale, instead. Rising from her
chair, she bowed formally, and without saying a word, withdrew.

"Ah me! Isn't it sad?" murmured Mrs. Markle, as she heard
the street door close upon her visitor. "So much that is agreeable and
excellent — all dimmed by the lack of honest principle. It seems hardly
credible that a woman, with everything she needs, could act dishonestly for
so small a matter. A few yards of material — against integrity and
character! What a price to set upon virtue!"

Not more than half an hour after the departure of Mrs.
Comegys, Mrs. Grimes called in to see Mrs. Markle.

"I hope," she said, shortly after she was seated, "that
you won't say a word about what I told you a few days ago; I wouldn't have
opened my lips on the subject, if you hadn't asked me about it. I only
mentioned it in the first place, to a friend in whom I had the greatest
confidence in the world. She has told someone, very improperly, for it was
imparted to her as a secret, and in that way it has been spread
abroad. I regret it exceedingly, for I would be the last person in the world
to say a word to injure anyone. I am particularly guarded in this."

"If it's the truth, Mrs. Grimes, I don't see that
you need be so anxious about keeping it a secret," returned Mrs. Markle.

"The truth! Do you think I would utter a word that was
not true?"

"I did not mean to infer that you would. I believe that
what you said in regard to Mrs. Comegys, was the fact."

"It certainly was. But then, it will do no good to make a
disturbance about it. What has made me call in to see you is this;
someone told me that, in consequence of this matter — you had dropped the
acquaintance of Mrs. Comegys."

"It is true; I cannot associate on intimate terms with a
woman who lacks honest principles."

"But don't you see that this will bring matters to a
head, and that I shall be placed in a very awkward position?"

"You are ready to adhere to your statement in regard to
Mrs. Comegys?"

"Oh, certainly; I have told nothing but the truth. But
still, you can see that it will make me feel exceedingly unpleasant."

"Things of this kind are never very agreeable, I know,
Mrs. Grimes. Still we must act as we think right, let what will,
follow. Mrs. Comegys has already called upon me to ask an explanation of my
conduct towards her."

"Oh dear, Mrs. Markle! I wish you hadn't done that. I
shall be involved in a world of trouble, and the reputation of a
tattler and mischief-maker. What did she say?"

"Not one word."

"She didn't deny it?"

"No."

"Of course she could not. Well, that is some satisfaction
at least. She might have denied it, and tried to make me out as a liar —
and there would have been plenty to believe her word against mine. I am glad
she didn't deny it. She didn't say a word?"

"No."

"Did she look guilty?"

"You would have thought so, if you had seen her."

"What did she do?"

"She sat with her eyes upon the floor for some time, and
then rose up, and without uttering a word, left the house."

"I wish she had said something. It would have been a
satisfaction to know what she thought. But I suppose the poor woman was so
confounded, that she didn't know what to say."

"So it appeared to me. She was completely stunned.
I really pitied her from my heart. But lack of moral principle should
never be countenanced. If we are to have social integrity, we must mark with
appropriate condemnation, all deviations therefrom. It was exceedingly
painful, but the path of duty was before me, and I walked in it
without faltering."

Mrs. Grimes was neither so clear-sighted, nor so
well satisfied with what she had done, as all this. She left the house of
Mrs. Markle feeling very unhappy. Although she had been using her little
unruly member against Mrs. Comegys with due industry — she was all the
while on the most friendly terms with her, visiting at her house, and being
visited. It was only a few days before, that she had taken tea and spent an
evening with her. Not that Mrs. Grimes was deliberately hypocritical,
but she had a free tongue, and, like too many in society — she was
much better pleased to see evil than good in a neighbor.

There are very few of us, perhaps, who have not
something of this fault — an exceedingly bad fault, by the way. It
seems to arise from a consciousness of our own imperfections — and
the pleasure we feel in making the discovery that others are as bad,
if not worse, than we are.

Two days after Mrs. Comegys had called on Mrs. Markle to
ask for explanations, the latter received a note in the following words:

"Dear Mrs. Markle, I have no doubt you have acted
according to your own views of right, in dropping as suddenly as you have
done, the acquaintance of an old friend. Perhaps, if you had called upon me
and asked explanations — you might have acted a little differently.
My present object in addressing you is to ask, as a matter of justice,
that you will call at my house tomorrow at twelve o'clock. I think that I am
entitled to speak a word in my own defense. After you have heard that, I
shall not complain of any course you may think it right to pursue. Anna
Comegys."

Mrs. Markle, could do no less than call as she had been
asked. At twelve o'clock she rang the bell at Mrs. Comegys' door, and was
shown into the parlor, where, to her no small surprise, she found about
twenty ladies, most of them acquaintances, assembled, Mrs. Grimes
among the number. In about ten minutes Mrs. Comegys came into the room, her
countenance wearing a calm but sober aspect. She bowed slightly, but was not
cordial toward, or familiar with, anyone present. Without a pause she said —

"Ladies, I have learned within a few days, very greatly
to my surprise and grief, that there is a report circulated among my
friends, injurious to my character, as a woman of honest principles.
I have taken some pains to ascertain those with whom the report is familiar,
and have invited all such to be here today. I learn from several sources,
that the report originated with Mrs. Grimes, and that she has been
very industrious in circulating it, to my injury."

"Perhaps you wrong Mrs. Grimes there," spoke up Mrs.
Markle. "She did not mention it to me, until I inquired of her if the report
was true. And then she told me that she had never told it but to a single
person, in confidence, and that she had inadvertently alluded to
it — and thus it became a common report. So I think that Mrs. Grimes cannot
justly be charged with having sought to circulate the matter to
your injury."

"Very well, we will see how far that statement is
correct," said Mrs. Comegys. "Did she mention the subject to you, Mrs.
Raynor?"

"She did," replied Mrs. Raynor. "But in strict
confidence, and enjoining it upon me not to mention it to anyone, as she had
no wish to injure you."

"Did you tell it to anyone?"

"No. But it was only a little while afterward, that it
was told to me by someone else."

"Was it mentioned to you, Mrs. Florence?" proceeded Mrs.
Comegys, turning to another of the ladies present.

"It was, ma'am."

"By Mrs. Grimes?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"In confidence, I suppose?"

"I was requested to say nothing about it, for fear that
it might create an unfavorable impression in regard to you."

"Very well; there are two already. How was it in
your case, Mrs. Wheeler?"

This lady answered as the others had done. The question
was then put to each lady in the room, when it appeared that out of
the twenty — fifteen had received their information on the subject
from Mrs. Grimes, and that upon every one, secrecy had been enjoined,
although not in every case maintained.

"So it seems, Mrs. Markle," said Mrs. Comegys, after she
had finished her inquiries, "that Mrs. Grimes has, as I alleged,
industriously circulated this matter to my injury."

"It certainly appears so," returned Mrs. Markle, coldly.

Thus brought into a corner, Mrs. Grimes bristled up like
certain animals, which are good at running and skulking, but which, when
fairly trapped, fight desperately.

"Telling it to a thousand — is not half as bad as
doing it, Mrs. Comegys," she said, angrily. "You needn't try to
screen yourself from the consequences of your wrong doings, by raising a hue
and cry against me. Go to the fact, madam! Go to the fact —
and stand by what you have done."

"I have no hesitation about doing that, Mrs. Grimes. Tell
me please — what have I done?"

"It is very strange that you should have to ask,
madam."

"But I am charged, I learn, with having committed a crime
against society — and you are the author of the charge. What is the
crime?"

"If it is any satisfaction to you, I will tell you. I was
at your house when the pattern of the dress you now have on, was sent home.
You measured it in my presence, and there were several yards in it more than
you had bought and paid for" —

"How many?"

Mrs. Grimes looked confused, and stammered out, "I do not
now exactly remember."

"That will do," said Mrs. Comegys. "Mrs. Grimes can now
go on with her answer to my inquiry. I will remark, however, that the
overplus was just two yards."

"Then you admit that the material overran what you had
paid for?"

"Certainly I do. It overran just two yards."

"Very well. One yard or a dozen — the
principle is just the same. I asked you what you meant to do with it, and
you replied, 'keep it, of course.' Do you deny that?"

"No. It is very likely that I did say so, for it was my
intention to keep it."

"Without paying for it?" asked Mrs. Markle.

Mrs. Comegys looked steadily into the face of her
interrogator for some moments, a flush upon her cheek, an indignant light in
her eye. Then, without replying to the question, she stepped to the wall and
rang the parlor bell. In a few moments, a servant came in.

"Ask the gentleman in the dining-room if he will
be kind enough to step in here." In a little while, a step was heard along
the passage, and then a young man entered.

"Are you a clerk in Mr. Perkins' store?" said Mrs.
Comegys.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you remember my buying this dress material at your
store?"

"Very well, ma'am. I would forget a good many incidents,
before I forgot that."

"What impressed it upon your memory?"

"This circumstance. I was very much hurried at the time
when you bought it, and in measuring it off, made a mistake against myself
of two yards. There should have been enough for four dresses, in that piece
of material. One piece of material had been sold previous to yours. Not long
after your material had been sent home, two ladies came into the store and
each chose a dress from the pattern. On measuring the piece, I discovered
that it was two yards short, and lost the sale of the dresses in
consequence, as the ladies wished them alike. An hour afterward, you
called to say that I had made a mistake, and sent you two yards more
than you had paid for; but that as you liked the pattern very much, you
would keep it and buy two yards more for a dress for your little girl."

"Yes; that is exactly the truth in regard to the dress. I
am obliged to you, Mr. Sanders, for the trouble I have given you. I will not
keep you any longer."

The young man bowed and withdrew.

The ladies immediately gathered around Mrs. Comegys, with
a thousand apologies for having for a moment entertained the idea
that she had been guilty of wrong — while Mrs. Grimes took refuge in a flood
of tears.

"I have but one cause of complaint against you all," said
the injured lady, "and it is this. A charge of so serious a nature, should
never have been made a subject of common report, without my being offered a
chance to defend myself. As for Mrs. Grimes, I can't readily
understand how she fell into the error she did. But she never would have
fallen into it, if she had not been more willing to think evil, than
good, of her friends. I do not say this to hurt her; but to state a truth
that it may be well for her, and perhaps some of the rest of us, to lay to
heart.

"It is a serious thing to speak evil of another, and
should never be done, except on the most unequivocal evidence. It never
occurred to me to say to Mrs. Grimes that I would pay for the
material; that I supposed she or any one else would have inferred, when I
said I would keep it."

A great deal was said by all parties, and many
apologies were made. Mrs. Grimes was particularly humble, and begged all
present to forgive and forget what was past. She knew, she
said, that she was apt to talk — it was a fault with her,
which she would try to correct. But that she didn't mean to do anyone
harm.

As to the latter averment, it can be believed or not — as
suits every one's fancy. All concerned in this affair felt that they had
received a lesson which they would not soon forget. And we doubt not,
that some of our readers might lay it to heart, with great advantage
to themselves and benefit to others.